No: I must face it out. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. Her thoughts took words for themselves. What were you doing at Remenham House? I can’t puzzle that bit out. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. "Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. That is easy. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense.
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